Reeling Backward: "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" (1969)

I warmed to "Goodbye, Mr. Chips," but very slowly.

This was one of those situations where I went into a movie expecting something, and the film I saw delivered something very different. Shortly after Peter O'Toole's death I realized I had several notable omissions in my viewing of his filmography and decided to rectify that, starting with his Oscar-nominated performances. Only "The Ruling Class" remains unseen by me, and hopefully I'll get to it before long.

Anyway, James Hilton's novella has previously been adapted to film in 1939. The story of a meek, shy British schoolmaster who gradually comes out of his shell to become a beloved institution unto himself, it had notes similar to other teacher tales, like the underrated "Mr. Holland's Opus." To wit: the focus is on the relationship between the instructor and his pupils.

Alas, "Chips" is not overly concerned with life in the classroom, containing only two sections set there toward the beginning and the end, mostly to serve in juxtaposition as to how Arthur Chipping (O'Toole) is regarded by his young charges. Which is to say: unspeakably reviled in the former, and warmly embraced in the latter.

In truth, the 1969 film version is a romantic drama, and a musical one, at that. I confess I was not aware of the movie's tendency to break out into song until I started watching it and encountered O'Toole's low-key, amateurish warbling. It registers somewhere between Rex Harrison's talk-singing in "My Fair Lady" and Lee Marvin's deep-throated gurgling in "Paint Your Wagon" in terms of cadence.

Apparently, the 1960s was a time when filmmakers thought it was a great idea to cast actors who couldn't sing in musicals.

The songs in "Chips" are mostly forgettable, and mostly sung by Katherine Bridges (Petula Clark), the London stage soubrette -- in Broadway terms, the singing ingenue -- who becomes his unlikely wife. Clark was a famous recording artist at the time but not much of an actress; Richard Burton, who was originally to have played the role of Chipping, declined to appear with a "pop star," leaving the way open to O'Toole.

O'Toole's performance is a thing of wonderment. At first, his character is so off-putting and annoying, we can't stand watching him but for a short while. O'Toole affects an air of absolute mortification whenever he encounters behavior that is off-putting, which is essentially all the time. His first meeting with and courtship of Katherine is nearly grating, as we cannot possibly comprehend what she sees in this older, sad chap.

But she soon smooths out his rough edges, making him more passionate and agreeable. He stands up to his insular school's board of governors when he is passed over for promotion, something we cannot imagine the mouse-like Chipping doing beforehand. Katherine transforms him into a better man, and their relationship deepens with the passage of time, despite their lack of children.

(My understanding is she had a miscarriage in the film's original editing, but that was taken out. "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" exists in several iterations, from barely over two hours to nearly three hours running time. Many of the songs were removed during the various culling processes.)

Katherine dies during a WWII bombing while she's performing one of her old stage numbers for the troops, which leaves Chipping devastated, but in some ways still complete. He is able to engage with his boys in a manner that is instructive and clipped, yet nurturing rather than ostracizing.

One of the final scenes shows Chipping, now headmaster of the school, giving his farewell address to the boys in their massive meeting hall. He tries to be modest and downplay his tenure, but is swarmed with their support and adoration. It's practically a one-man masters class in acting, as O'Toole underplays beautifully.

I started out rather disliking this film, but near the end it almost had me in tears. This was director Herbert Ross' first effort in the chair, going on to make wonderful and/or famous pictures like "Steel Magnolias," "The Goodbye Girl," "Footloose" and  "Pennies From Heaven."

Video review: "The Deep Blue Sea"

Love triangles often make for scintillating cinematic tales, but "The Deep Blue Sea" is generally a dreadful bore. Despite a spot-on performance by Rachel Weisz as a tortured British woman dallying between two men, the best way to describe my reaction to this tale was colossal indifference.

I think the main problem is that, as written by writer/director Terence Davies (adapted from a play by Terence Rattigan), Hester Collyer (Weisz) is an unrelatable character. We don't care that she suffers. It's possible to make a movie centered around a person the audience dislikes, but not one who simply doesn't interest them.

Hester is married to a rich judge (Simon Russell Beale), but it's a passionless coupling. He shows up from time to time to try to lure her back, but Hester's heart belongs to Freddie Page (Tom Hiddleston), a penniless former pilot. Alas, Freddie doesn't care for her the way she does him.

So instead of a triangle based on competing loves, this movie is about a circle of unrequited affection. Each character loves another who doesn't love them, and in turn is adored by one they don't. "The Deep Blue Sea" is the story three rudderless ships passing in the night.

Extra features are plentiful and substantial. Director Davies supplies a feature-length audio commentary, and there are also interviews with him, Weisz and Hiddleston. There's also a collector's booklet, and a featurette on the lush, dark look of the film.

Movie: 1.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Review: "The Deep Blue Sea"

My opinion of "The Deep Blue Sea" is not dissimilar from that of the recent "Young Adults." Both are well-acted dramas about a female protagonist who is not a pleasant person to spend time with. What's more, she is totally unrelatable to the audience, doing silly and sometimes spiteful things for reasons I could not grasp.

Watching Hester Collyer (Rachel Weisz) dally between two men should be a compelling experience, as we share her anguish over the painful choice she must make. Does she stay in a comfortable but loveless marriage with Sir William Collyer (Simon Russell Beale), a wealthy judge, or choose to be with the mercurial but passionate former RAF pilot Freddie Page (Tom Hiddleston)?

Instead, it's a dreary affair as Hester wavers and wonders, attempts a half-hearted suicide and runs this passive-aggressive campaign to make the callow Freddie commit to her. We don't feel sorry for her, or identify with her, but at best feel pity and more likely feel little.

It is possible to build a film around characters who are not supposed to be liked by the viewer -- I think of Brenda Blethyn in "Secrets & Lies" -- but the power in those characterizations lies in the ability to provoke a strong reaction from the audience. My strongest reaction to Hester is that I wanted her to go away.

It's never a good thing when your main character is the least interesting person onscreen.

Written and directed by Terence Davies, adapted from the play by Terence Rattigan, "The Deep Blue Sea" takes place over the course of a single day "around 1950." The story also shows flashbacks to earlier points in her relationships with the two men, but the transitions are so subtle that the film feels slightly unstuck from time, and we're never quite sure if what we're seeing is contemporaneous.

Plot-wise, there really isn't much to describe. Hester wakes up and tries to kill herself with a combination of pills and gas from the furnace, but is saved by the helpful landlady (Ann Mitchell). Freddie, who must have slept in when they passed out empathy, is enraged when he learns of Hester's suicide attempt, because he thinks it reflects badly on him.

William shows up from time to time to try to lure Hester into returning to him. He's quiet and diffident, but smart enough to know his wife was unhappy. Whereas Freddie externalizes his discontent with Hester, she drives the shy William further into himself with her rejections.

William does have enough pride that he finds it hard to fathom why she would choose the penniless, irresponsible Freddie over himself. I don't understand why you would give up so much for so little, he tells her.

And that's Hester's quandary. She describes herself as "walking between the Devil and the deep blue sea," meaning she faces two terrible choices. She has genuine romance with Freddie, but he'll never love her like she does him, or she can be with William, who clearly adores her, a feeling she cannot return.

Perhaps it's because Hester knows what it's like to be emotionally rejected by the one she loves that she harbors pity for William.

If so, this could form the basis for a truly tortuous story about discarded love. What a shame "The Deep Blue Sea" is such a rudderless tale.

2 stars out of four